It may be of interest to our readers to know that the next day it was Midshipman Stark who obtained leave and volunteered to ride to the hacienda with the good news. Suddenly, while they still sat talking, the door was thrown open and a wild figure burst in. With a cry of surprise, the Dreadnought Boys recognized Hank Harkins. “I claim the protection of the American consul! I am an American,” he began crying and groveling on the floor. Hardly had the words left his lips before some government soldiers entered. Addressing the consul, their leader explained that Hank had been detected fleeing from the insurgent ranks before the Hill of the Ten Saints, and was wanted as a prisoner. “They’ll shoot me!” screamed Hank miserably. “Save me! Save me!” Suddenly he noticed the Dreadnought Boys, and appealed frenziedly to them. “Don’t let them take me,” he cried. Ned briefly explained to the consul who the groveling wretch was, and then Colonel Thompson, who had some influence with the president of Costaveza, agreed to take charge of Hank. With this assurance the soldiers left the room. But Hank still sobbed convulsively. He had spent the hours of the battle crouched behind a tree, but the savage fighting had terrified him. When it was all over, he tried to sneak into the town unseen, but already the government troops had been told to watch for him, as well as for Charbonde. “Where is Charbonde?” asked Ned sternly of the cringing creature. “Dead,” wailed Hank. “He fell, shot in the back, as he was running toward me.” “A fitting death,” remarked Lieutenant Timmons. “Do you know anything of de Guzman’s whereabouts?” “No,” Hank declared. He added that he had seen the general in retreat with some of his officers, but had lost sight of him. It was afterward learned that de Guzman, after seeking shelter with a relative on the other side of the island for a time, finally escaped to Paris, where he now lives--an outcast and almost a beggar. As for Hank, he was ultimately given up to justice, but, on the pleas of the consul, escaped being shot. He was deported from the country, and was speedily lost sight of. And Jim Prentice? He was found missing one day, and doubtless deserted the service he disgraced. Little more remains to be told. The next day the boys were astonished by the arrival of several big battleships in the harbor, the squadron being in command of their old commander, Captain Dunham. It appeared that the squadron had been cruising in West Indian waters, but had been ordered by cable to proceed to Costaveza, when the government became convinced of the seriousness of the situation. In some mysterious way Captain Dunham soon learned the eventful history of the boys in Costaveza, and they were sent for by him to relate the whole story. Their former commander roared with laughter and astonishment by turns as they related their experiences, but finally his face grew grave.